We're Young Hearts
by Nascha
Summary: She came hiding, we found her fighting, scrambling for freedom. She was the first. It started something, we all felt it. There was always a way out and she was the key to finding it. Newt/oc
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

It was that place where you were awake, but not quite fully, that she found herself in. Her eyes were still closed as she allowed her body to recognise the surrounding, but it didn't. She could remember going to sleep on a hard metal floor, she couldn't remember anything. Moving quicker than she'd probably ever done in her life she shot into a sitting position. It was dark where she was, she knew there was metal below her. Her hands grasped wood, netting, rope and more metal. Her heart stuttered. She needed to find a door, there must be a door, there was always a door she was...certain.

Scrambling to her knees she ignored the gaping hole in her memories and crawled across the floor. Her shoulders banged into more of what she assumed was crates until her fingers collided with another wall. Using it as her guidance she followed along it, clambering clumsily in the dark over the object scattered in her path until she met another wall. She continued to follow. Three metal walls down and her heart was nesting in her throat. This wall had to have a door. It just had to. There is always an exit, if you can get in then you can get out.

Splaying her hand out she felt along it, her muscles getting tauter and tauter until she hit another wall. Breath rushed out in a sudden hot wave of emotion. There was no door. There wasn't a damn door. Tears threatened but she bit her lip to tamper them. She wasn't going to lose it. There is always a way out. Maybe the ceiling wasn't a ceiling. She could remember something that opened from the top, boxes opened from the top but she didn't recall where she'd seen it or when.

Clinging to one of the wooden structures she pulled herself to standing warily in case the ceiling was closer than anticipated. There was nothing. Her free hand stretched upwards and still there was nothing, she clambered on to a box and reached further and her fingertips brushed against metal.

She was thrown to the floor as what she thought had been solid ground moved, the box tumbled with her scattering packages on and under her bruised body. There was red light and for a moment she thought it was blood, there were alarms and the grinding of metal against metal. Someone was screaming, it was her. Clamping her hands over her mouth she stared at the wall of her metal prison as it ascended at break neck speed. It was like a horror ride, but she couldn't recall ever being on one to make the comparison. Rides were thrills, thrill that didn't kill. The information came to her without reference.

Moving her hands to her ears she closed her eyes, curling in on herself as she chanted, rocking herself against the movement.

"Please let it be a ride. Please let it be a ride. I don't want to die. Please let it be a ride. Please."

The grinding grew more persistent until it was all she could hear and her hands clamped harder about her ear.

"I DON'T WANT TO DIE, PLEASE."

It stopped as suddenly as it had begun, but it was not silent. There were voices, muffled but she knew enough to recognise them. She needed to hide. The box that had spilled its content lent against another, there were enough room to slide between the gap and inside it so she did, her breath catching as she waited.

"Where's the Greenie?" She knew the box had opened when the voices became startlingly clear.

"Maybe they didn't send one."

"Don't be a klunk head, they always send one."

They were male, she could tell that much.

"Newt come help me find the shank." She couldn't understand all the words, in fact she was pretty certain klunk and shank weren't right and what was a Greenie?. But it was all forgotten with two thuds against the metal. They were in the box with her.

"Hey Alby, do you think…?"

"Maybe"

That was all the warning she got before the world got considerably brighter. Lashing out she caught someone leg so she pulled, attempting to scramble away as her eyes adjusted to the light.

"No you don't you little shank."

Arms banded around her torso but she didn't stop struggling, she wasn't going down without a fight. Snarling she writhed until the figure in front of her became clear. He was just a boy, a teenager. His skin was dark and his eyes cold as he glowered at her rubbing the back of his head. That's when she came back to her senses.

"Its alright lov-"

"Its a girl"

"I want her"

"Its alright love."

"A girl?"

"Its alright."

"I call dibs."

"Shush its alright."

She was crying.

"Get back to work you klunk heads, nobody calls dibs on no one you hear!"

She focused on the voice by her ear, letting her body go limp as she crumbled into her captor.

"Its alright."


	2. Remember when we were so small

**Chapter 1: Remember when we were so small**

Newt hated this day about all others. It was the day another poor soul would come up wrapped in a metal box with a pristine bow of memory loss. Everyone would gather to watch the Greenie emerge frightened and confused and jeer like they hadn't gone through the exact same thing. There were only a handful of the originals left, he was one. They had woken up in the middle of, what had come to be called, the glade. No one knew why they had been there or even who they were. Suspicion had circulated and anarchy was only word he could think of to describe the aftermath. It had been a small collection of them, Alby, Minho and himself that had banded together to create some sort of order. By the time they'd managed it they were now four less Gladers. It had been a hellish and volatile time and this day only reminded them of it.

His fingers snagged as he drew them through his sleep mused hair. He probably could have requested a comb, had he the mind to, but Newt wanted nothing more than he needed to survive from the people who put him here. Who put them here.

A knock was enough for him to gather his thoughts as he pulled himself form the rudimentary cot to answer it.

"Newt Track-hoes need some help with the harvest." It was Alby.

"Good that."

The Track-hoes were where Newt spent the majority of his time outside of his normal second in command duties. It was the peace he enjoyed. Zart wasn't much of a talker and while Newt knew he, himself, was it seemed to work out well enough. It was hard enough work to keep his mind from wandering places it certainly shouldn't. Not again.

Pulling on his boots he negated the need to change his shirt, harvesting would only scruff it up and there was no need ruining a clean one. Besides food was calling and he was all to eager to follow.

They'd managed a lot really, since they'd first been dropped in the glade. They had their own society, rules, well three of them, and jobs. But it was still just surviving, it wasn't living. He knew, he just knew there was more out there. He was certain he'd seen it once, but the memories just wouldn't surface. He knew it all the same though. They all did. The memories might not be there but the knowledge was. Like how they never saw the sun or the stars. There should be big ball of glowing light in the sky but there wasn't. There should have been stars at night but there weren't. Some of the Gladers just accepted it, everything is weird at first but the more often you see it the quicker it became the norm. But Newt never forgot that it wasn't natural. He refused. Maybe that was why he-

No don't go there Newt, don't put yourself back in that place.

Enticing aromas of bacon and eggs wafted by and he followed it like a dutiful pup, quickly shutting down the freight train of thought he'd been on, replacing the 'Danger: Do Not Enter' sign in his mind. Food was more important than wallowing anyhow.

Grabbing his treasure he made his way out of the Homestead to his usual spot. Moments after he's settled there was a grinding as the Maze opened and seconds behind that he watched the runners enter, Minho at the head of the small group. He'd been a runner once-

No Newt, you promised you would go there today.

Back to the delights of food. Even this sandwich, as delightful as it was, did little to brighten the mood that Greenie day brought on. He knew Alby felt it, and Minho too. They certainly weren't the only ones either. The older Gladers did. But you put on a brave face and move on. Someone had told him that, or maybe he just liked to think so. It was a saying none the less and whether he'd made it up or it was the remnants of a lost life he liked to cling to it.

Zart nodded to him as he pass carrying a collection of empty baskets. That was his cue. Finishing the remains of his breakfast he made to follow.

~oOo~

Dirt clung to everything, his shirt, skin and there was probably some of it in his hair. Zart could be as stubborn and morose as the best of them on the outside but even he wasn't opposed to some dirt flinging to lighten the mood. Even if it was harvest day. They'd managed a good haul, enough to feed the month and the bonfire tonight. Tradition, well it had become a tradition, begged for a welcoming bonfire for every Greenie on the night of their arrival. Like all tradition Newt hadn't a clue how it'd started but it gave everyone something to look forward to on the worst day of the month. That and it probably lessened the blow of being dropped in the middle of nowhere with nothing but a name, if you were lucky, and the clothes on your back.

"Anything new?"

Newts mind flashed back to the situation at hand. He was in the map room with Alby and Minho. Every day ended this way.

"No, Pete thought he saw a Griever but he wasn't stinking around to find out." Minho replied to Alby's question.

"A Griever Minho? I they aren't supposed to be out during the day."

"I'm just telling you what he said Alby, it doesn't mean he's seen one. We've all been a bit flighty after Hal."

"You don't run the Maze Alby, you never have. It plays tricks on you and sometimes all you can think about is those things." His own voice cut into the conversation and he pretended not to see the slight twinge of pity on the edges of their looks.

"Run that part tomorrow then, just to check."

Everything else was forgotten as the blaring of an alarm cut sharper than a Slicers blade.

Minho sighed warily as he gathered the paper strewn about the crude table they'd just been seated about. They were all tried of this.

"See you out there in a bit Minho." Newt let his hand rest against his friends shoulder for a moment before he left the hut to follow Alby towards the box.

A crowd was already gathering by the time they made it over. There were no hushed whispers as they argued over what would come up. Would he be a runner? Nah he'd probably be another slopper. They bantered back and forth but Newt and Alby were silent. Faces grim as they waited for the gears to cease their grinding.

The alarm shut down and the box clicked into place.

"Ready?" Alby questioned him and Minho who had just jogged over to stand with them.

"Yeah."

They dragged the hatch open and there was no one visible. Greenies usually hid if they had enough of a mind to so it was nothing odd

"Newt come help me find this shank." He jumped down in the box with Alby. Experience had taught them to let the Greenie know they were coming. Results were less than desirable when they didn't.

There was an upturned crate, its contents spilled against the metal flooring. It would have been hardly big enough to fit Chuck and Newt felt a pang of sadness. Not another kid.

"Hey Alby, do you think…?

"Maybe"

Alby nodded to him and they pulled the crate up from its fallen position.

That wasn't a boy. Even in her curled up position Newt could easily tell it was a girl. She wasn't delicate a pristine like he'd imagined one to be. She looked frail, they all did when they first came up, and terrified. It was the shock, Alby would later defend, that allowed her to one up him and pull his footing from under him. Perhaps she wasn't as frail as she first appeared. He, on the other hand, quickly got over it as he noticed her getting ready to bolt.

"No you don't little Greenie." His arms encased her, but she was struggling, snarling in her frantic attempts to escape.

She bucked against him like a wild thing and he turned to steady himself against the wall of the box chanting the only thing that came to mind.

"It's alright love, it's alright."

His turning, however, had put her on display for the rest of the gathered group and they started shouting dibs which only increased her struggling. Hot tears were splashing on his arms and he was struggling with the urge to pummel the slintheads and keep hold of her.

"Get back to work you klunk heads, nobody calls dibs on no one you hear!" Alby had finally recovered from his shock and sudden drop, he was never letting him live that down, and they exchanged glances as the girl in his arms crumpled into him. They had never had a girl. First a possible Griever sighting, and now a girl. What the shuck was going on?

Shifting his grip he sat the girl down in front of him. She was still crying but peering through her tears at him. Her build was as small as he first suspected. She'd hardly reached his chin when he'd grabbed her. Brown hair, and brown eyes. Freckles. Even through the mess of tears and snot he could tell she was pretty. Then again anything was pretty compared to the klunk heads above.

"My name is Newt, thats Alby." He pointed behind her. "Up there is the glade and a bunch of klunk heads you don't need to worry about. We wont let them do anything and they know better anyhow."

He flicked his head up and Alby climbed out of the box.

"We need to get you out of here, okay love? I'm going to pass you up to Alby and then we can talk a bit more."

Her grip tensed lightly on his forearm where she held onto his arm for support or grounding he didn't really know. But she nodded her accent as her breathing evened through the tears.

"Good that."

Helping her gain her footing he lifted her towards Alby's outstretched arms. She weighed next to nothing which was concerning in itself. He was quick to follow behind her.

Minho was hovering in the background in case she made a run for it but his brow was furrowed with concern. No girl had ever set a foot in this glade since they'd first woken up confused on the grass, so why now?

She was skittish but not attempting to run, her eyes focused on taking in as much as possible.

"Can you tell me you're name?" Brown eyes snapped over to his blue.

"Emma."


End file.
